My Mirror, My Sword And Shield
by twintailed
Summary: Everything changes when Nick gets his second chance - and he finds that if he can do one thing right then, it would be to help Lirael after her loss. Takes place immediately after Abhorsen's epilogue. Slight Nick/Lirael.


_**My Mirror, My Sword And Shield**_

_**a/n: **__Written circa January 2009._

_I blame Creature in the Case for this with the early stages of shipping, with all the 'if you help me' stuff. I was thinking about what could have made Lirael so embarassed towards Nick, so I decided that the conversation she speaks about in a letter might be interesting. So here we are. _'_My Mirror, My Sword And Shield' is basically from Viva La Vida by Coldplay. I tink it pretty much sums up what I'm trying to portray Nick as here.. like, a new shield to Lirael, someone to protect her, someone to help her recover after the loss of Dog._

_Oh, and the line 'Everything and anything has a time to die...' is directly something taken from what Sabriel says in the epilogue of Sabriel. I figure she probably got it from somewhere, and the Book of the Dead is a mysterious thing, so maybe it decided to show Lirael that, to help her understand later, since it can change its contents at will._

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* * *

_If it weren't for the fact he swayed and almost fell over when he said he had complete control over his functions, then Nicholas Sayre probably wouldn't have found himself lying on the ground on the nearest stretcher before he could object.

In actuality, he didn't want to be lying down on the stretcher. He felt the most alert and alive than he had in months: he felt like Nicholas Sayre, not a puppet belonging to Hedge or the Destroyer. He felt like he could think for himself and tackle any problems of the universe. And, for the first time in the best part of six months, he could breathe. Each breath was like a cry of glory from his lungs: it had been a long time since he'd been able to breathe without a hindrance or without making himself sick.

Whenever Nick thought about moving though, he couldn't. His mind may be wide-awake and eager and desperate to do something, but his body was definitely at the other extremity. He couldn't move himself at all – not without humongous effort, which he didn't have the patience for. So, reluctantly, he lay back on the stretcher, eyes closed because it hurt to keep them open, the occasional conversation drifting his way as the other survivors discussed what best to do about the situation, only being able to make out Sam's voice and occasionally his mothers. It wasn't really all that clear from the angle he was laid out at.

And because his body felt like a lead weight, he couldn't move himself to listen properly, which irritated his mind further.

Nick sighed. Maybe dying and coming back to life took a lot out of him.

No matter how bizarre and against all he believed in that once, he knew he'd died. It was only Lirael's friend, the Disreputable Dog, that had saved him – brought him back, sent him back – whichever worked. Even with the extra energy soaring round his head, he didn't really want to fathom how that had happened – he almost immediately decided that would be a question worth being left to lie.

It was then, as he thought over the Dog, that he remembered Lirael. He knew – he hoped – he would know her voice enough to hear it above him, but he hadn't heard it. This bothered him, enough so that Nick was finally able to open his eyes and realize that he wasn't alone.

To his left, there was a stretcher next to him. Instead of being laid out in an easy carrying position, this occupant was almost curled up into a ball-shape on her side. They were facing him, but the shape they had inhabited completely hid their facial features. Stars quartered with silver keys glared back at him from the embroided fabric of the surcoat that ran down to the knees, and black, tangled hair fell down all around the figure's frame.

Nick knew straight away.

"Lirael," he croaked, half unable to speak from the gratitude that seemed to seep into his voice from somewhere. He was glad. Oh so, so so glad...

She didn't respond – she didn't even move. Nick's eyes trailed over her balled-figure, and noticed her hand was missing. It wasn't bleeding at the stump – tiny marks seemed to moving over the closed up wound – and something was nestled across her chest where she'd obviously refused to let it go.

From what Nick could make out, it was a soap statuette of a dog, which had likeness akin to the talking Dog from his dream and Lirael's larger than life friend...

Who clearly wasn't going to be here anymore if Nick had seen her in that place he'd just come back from.

"Lirael," he breathed, his voice louder and more distinctive this time. "It's me. I'm alive."

That got a little bit of a response. Her actions showed she hadn't been watching where she was or whom the invalid next to her was. Nick could almost make out an eye under her protective shield of hair. It widened. "N-Nick?"

She didn't say anything else, even though Nick waited. She seemed to go back straight into her stunned stupor of disbelief.

For a second, Nick panicked. Now he thought about it, this was exactly what he had done before he'd become the Destroyer's avatar. Silence. Incoherency. Being unable to do anything, spiralling into an abyss. It was like they had swapped roles. Was this how Lirael had been the number of times she'd had to persuade him to come back? Nick probably would never know, and right now, he had to think of something to do.

A thought hit him that wounded his agile awake mind. If she'd saved him with whatever he'd done...

It seemed more than swapping roles. It was if she'd taken the Destroyer straight out of him and into herself.

That was preposterous. Nick knew it was an idiotic idea to nurture. But the more silence that passed between them, the more his mind raised the question, again and again.

There was only one thing he could do. Keep her talking. Help her before she slipped under – if this wasn't the Destroyer's influence, then... he could help her from slipping all the way over into depression. He could think of something to say. He had to repay her, because he'd failed her before with trying to get back to them. He had to keep his old promise in a new way. The word of a Sayre.

He fumbled over something to say. "Is... it gone?"

No response. She didn't move from where her eyes had fallen upon him before: he couldn't tell if she was seeing past him or seeing him.

"I knew you'd be able to do it," Nick said encouragingly. "To save everyone, I mean."

Lirael seemed to shake her head very slightly. "If I didn't have everyone-" she started distantly, "-then I wouldn't have been able to, and even then, I..." her eyes trailed down to the stone statuette of her canine friend.

"But you did it," Nick interjected. He didn't get any sort of response after that. After several minutes, he let out a slow breath, before he spoke again. "You saved me, too. You did that."

"You died," she said quietly. It hit him incredibly hard when she said that – made it all the more real. He could remember dying, now that he thought about it... seeing Sam and Lirael over him... but after that, it was a blur, and just when he was about to walk he'd being clung to by invisible shackles.

As he mulled this over, she looked up at him, properly this time – and she seemed mildly curious, like an onlooker who might take interest and might not, depending what he had to say. She didn't need to speak for Nick to figure what she was thinking. He knew she was trying to find out why he was still there, why her memory told her different.

"Y-Yeah," Nick said under her scrutiny. "I did. And then it went cold. I wanted to walk, but... something held me back. It felt like ages I stood there. I don't know. And then-" his eyes flickered to the Dog, and he had a sudden urge of inspiration. If Lirael knew the Dog's fate, then wouldn't she feel better about losing her-?

He rolled over slightly to look at her, finally finding mounds of gathered strength from somewhere. His eyes were bright and urgent – if Lirael could look surprised, then she would have. She just merely continued to look at him, waiting for him to continue in those few seconds. He still had part of her interest, at least. "You know, I didn't really know what was going on. I would have walked, or would have stood there. But something came and sent me back. I don't know if it's allowed, but... she said it was alright."

"She?" Lirael answered.

"The Disreputable Dog," Nick said urgently. "She's alright. She came, bright as always, like she did when I saw you in the dream – it wasn't a dream, was it? It still feels like that now, all that stuff does – she did something to my head, in life, apparently, and then... when she came to me there, she nudged me towards life. And I came back, somehow. She saved me, Lirael."

Lirael's mouth had fallen open on the first few words, and had looked stunned until the end of the sentence. A bit of colour – if there ever had been – seemed to filter back into her cheeks, as she stared at Nick, to the statuette, and back again. Her eyes finally rested firmly on Nick again.

"Dog saved you?" She affirmed. Her distant voice sounded closer. "What was- when did- was Dog alright? What was she doing?"

Suddenly her silent nature had turned straight to demanding and overwhelming. It was a bit of a u-turn, and it took Nick a few seconds to catch up with her. It was almost reminded him of Sam's mother's personality. "Sniffing around, I think. She didn't look like she was walking further... but... I don't know."

Lirael nodded, before she spoke with wisdom. "Everything and anything has a time to die..."

"Where's that from?" Nick raised an eyebrow. She'd said it was some form of affirmation he hadn't her before in her voice.

"The Book... I read that belongs to my family," she said with a small sigh. Then she looked at him again. "The Ninth Gate didn't call me when I went there, so then it wasn't my time. Since Dog didn't walk... maybe it wasn't her time either. And you didn't go deep into Death, Nicholas Sayre."

She seemed confused, and her words could be taken as an accusation, but Nick knew they weren't meant to be like that. She was trying to add things up. "Maybe it wasn't my time either," He said with a light smile across his face.

His answer was rewarding – Lirael finally smiled too, even though it looked odd and out of place on her weather-beaten face. It seemed to fit there, though – like she hadn't smiled in a long time and she deserved to. "Maybe not... though..." her eyes flickered to the side. "I'm glad. I thought... for a long time that I had failed in helping to save you."

Nick shook his head. "No. It was just difficult, everything that happened. You tried; I wasn't the most helpful subject. I could have tried harder than I did," he frowned, and then he shook his head.

"You did as much as you could," She assured him – offering another light smile – before she sighed. "Dog said I'd had everything she had to teach me," she mused, quietly to herself.

Nick broke into her reverie as he watched her, a thought blossoming in his head that, no matter how corny it sounded, he really did think it was what Dog had been trying to do in her whimsical ways. "Lirael. I think maybe I'm meant to be here. That the Dog sent me back for a reason. Maybe she knew you still needed help in other ways. Maybe that's why I'm here. To help you."

It had sounded pretty good in his head - but out loud, the words sounded jumbled and more than stupid. "Well, that came out weird. Could have sounded better than-"

"No, no," Lirael shook her head. "I understand, it's just... surprising. I... I feel like I've gained a lot of things and lost a lot of things at the same time... it's all... confusing, and surprising. It's hard to take in. But I think that... you might be right, Nick."

She offered a smile at him, though it was weak, and he gave one back to her, though it looked almost sheepish. "I'll do something right this time. Word of a Sayre."

"You said that before," A proper smile spread slightly across her face without it being forced. Nick's own grin spread further.

"And made a mess of it. Though I've done something already. First success - making you smile after all of this."

Lirael opened her mouth to say something, but before Nick got to hear it Sam had come bounding over to talk to them both - well, mostly Nick, as he offered a quick exchange of words to Lirael before refocusing his attention on Nick. Despite his obvious gestures to try to talk to Lirael again, Sam just kept blocking him.

"Sam," He said eventually, frowning.

"What? This is important. We - mother, me, Ellimere, everyone - are trying to decide where best it is for you to be. With what's happened and all-"

"I can decide that later," Nick said stubbornly, but he knew it was a false effort. Sam would make him talk and keep his attention even if it came to something so out of depth with the charred landscape around him... like cricket. Knowing Sam. So after a few seconds, he sighed, obliging. "Fine. Why are you deciding that?"

Sam shot into a short explanation, but before he could dash off and meet his parents, his parents arrived, gathering around him to speak to him, he assumed. Nick knew he wouldn't get his time to talk to Lirael by himself again for a while, at least - but out of the corner of his eye, when it occasionally fell on her, he could see she was almost in that half ball again.

But not like before - she seemed almost in restful and thankful sleep, not uneasy staring, with a slight turn to her lips as if she was smiling through it.

Nick felt proud of himself to have done something - of some sort - to help her in repayment for the debt he still held to her. Maybe his stupid thought about Dog sending him back for a reason wasn't that far off the mark. Lirael had saved him, saved someone. And he'd done something now. He'd done something, and she seemed - if only a little - happier, appeased, now she knew her friend was okay.

That was good.


End file.
